Saga: Janitor's Log
by ENline
Summary: For a pirate, my position in the crew may not have been the grandest or the most rewarding. There would be no epic tales about my achievements. I was simply the best at what I did, and that was cleaning. But then again, when you're janitor of the Heart Pirates, it was never going to be just normal.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 _A box washed up on shore. Water-tight. The smell of pine. A proudly engraved jolly roger. Perhaps treasure?_

 _A worn grey cloth, broken shell piece, dented pocket watch, shiny coin and pressed flower. Souvenirs and useless trinkets. The humble collection of a no-name pirate. Last of all, a leather bound book. Pages yellowed from age and voyages untold._

* * *

When the word pirate is brought to mind, what do you think of?

Perhaps you would relate the word to the scurvy ridden, immoral, pillaging scoundrels of the tides. You know. Complete with peg-legs, hooks for hands and an insatiable appetite for gold, rum and the kind.

Or perhaps you're the type standing on the opposite of the thought spectrum. Not surprising in this Great Age. In your mind, pirates would be something akin to great, seafaring warriors, at their freest when braving the vast oceans to quench their thirst for adventure. The epitome of freedom from the laws that bind mere civilians like you.

Criminal or Legend. There really is no in-between is there?

Well neither are wrong.

Neither are correct either.

I myself, have always enjoyed a good bottle of rum, and like most pirates, I do admit to being consumed by wanderlust at times. Hook hand and peg leg? Let's just say I have yet to earn those. Not very keen on it though. Never seen the romance in having a limb taken from me.

Or really having anything taken from me. To be honest I prefer doing the taking. But that's just pirates aye?

Pardon me, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I believe an introduction is in order. My name is probably a nice place to start. Then again, you would have seen my name on the cover of this journal. Was that what made you start snooping?

You can call me Husky. Heard of me? I suppose not. I not exactly a brave seafaring warrior after all.

And no, before you can ask, it isn't my real name. No it's not something I started calling myself, come on you can't be that daft. Nicknames aren't something you give yourself, and mine's no exception. I was assigned it by my crewmates since day one and before I knew it, it had stuck. Today it's more a part of my identity than my birth name ever was.

What? You were expecting a grand tale worthy of campfires and rainy days? Believe it or not, I do have a few up my sleeve. Not grand as much as they are amusing.

All in good time as they say.

Now where was I? Ah yes. I'm no brave seafaring warrior, far from it. But don't get me wrong, I'm a pirate through and through, And in my crew I was the best at what I did.

I was Janitor of the Heart Pirates.

Interested now? Well I guess I could share a few stories. Don't worry, my nickname will only be a small part of it.

Oh? I should tell you my real name?

Nice try, World Government scum.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _To the naive marine still reading this in hopes of finding information to use against my crew, let's just say you won't be entirely disappointed._

 _But let me warn you that my nostalgic musings are far from short and sweet, and the information you seek may come in the form of the many mundane activities of a low ranking pirate. With that in mind, let us start this chapter from the beginning._

 _For the beginning is always a good place to start._

* * *

"New hopefuls this way please!"

Ginger haired and sporting his signature blue and red cap, Shachi eagerly directed the line of people to where their submarine was anchored with a gleeful grin on his face. He had been positively tickled pink to find a small crowd of around twenty potential recruits waiting on the docks when he'd woken at the crack of dawn.

"Oi Penguin!" he bellowed, once they all in place, waiting until a head wearing a familiar black hat peeked over the side of the submarine, squinting down at him with a half-asleep reply of 'what?' "Get Captain and Bepo! We got new recruits!"

"No kidding? We only slipped the notice to the innkeeper yesterday." Penguin said, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and finally noticing their visitors. "I'll be damned. Be right with you Shachi!"

Shachi turned back to the curiously waiting group with a toothy smile. Which only grew wider when he caught the majority looking impressed as they appraised the submarine before them. He allowed them a minute or so before bringing his hands together.

"Well then!" All twenty something heads turned to attention at the sound of his clap, one especially curious individual having to run back from where they had taken a few steps back in order to take in the whole vessel."I'm Shachi, one of the mechanics of this _fine_ piece of submarine you're currently looking at! The other guy just then was Penguin, the other mechanic. It's practically impossible to forget his name since he wears it on his head. And you're all gathered here to be our possible future crewmates!"

"Emphasis is made on the word possible. You'll have to go through the preliminary interrogation and the trial period before you can become one of us." Penguin piped in, having just returned to join his comrade on the docks."Captain and his 'first mate' will be joining us shortly, so... last chance to look presentable guys."

Immediately, they all started patting themselves down self-consciously, smoothing unruly hair and straightening wrinkles in their clothes. None of them were dressed to impress, and it was expected as no one with the money to afford fancy clothing would want to join a pirate crew. Shachi scanned their crowd from behind his shades, picking out those who had potential and mentally assigning possible roles they could fill in the crew. One in particular, caught his eye. He discreetly nudged his crew mate in the ribs.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing Penguin?"

"If you mean the drop dead gorgeous beauty with the red hair, then hell _yes_." Penguin replied in equally hushed tones, voice almost as squeal at the end of his sentence, unable to contain his excitement. Both blushed, elbowing eachother repeatedly while small giggles occasionally escaped them. Said beauty then met their gaze with an indifferent stare that had them shivering.

"An ice queen..." Penguin murmured, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, suddenly overcome with emotion.

"Those eyes are such a lovely shade of silver..." said Shachi with a longing sigh. "Oh man! I do hope Captain lets her on the crew!"

"She is a pretty one isn't she?" a new voice cut in, sounding from right behind the duo. The two immediately sobered, backs stiffening at the sudden weight of tattooed arms casually resting across their shoulders.

"Captain! We were actually just discussing how she uh, looks like a great potential musician for our crew. Right Penguin?" the ginger haired mechanic quickly looked to his partner for back-up, doing his damn best to ignore their captain's presence between them and his 'first mate' gnawing at their boots.

"Right! Of course!" Penguin confirmed while nodding frantically. Their captain hummed, clearly sceptical, and both winced when the pressure on their shoulders increased.

"A musician? You think she can play music with that sword of hers? You know, the one strapped to her back?" he inquired innocently. Cold sweat broke out above their brows.

"Well would you look at that! It must've slipped our notice Captain!" Shachi babbled, hastily changing his approach. "But you do agree that she is rather pretty eh? So maybe we could let her on the crew-"

A sharp twist of the ear had them both yelping in surprise, effectively cutting off the mechanic's rambling. They leapt away from eachother to gingerly nurse their injuries, inadvertently allowing a path for their captain to walk past, his 'first mate' following faithfully at his heels.

"You shouldn't lie to your captain Shachi, Penguin." he said with a slow smile. "Plus, if she wants to qualify for my crew, she needs to be more than just a pretty face."

"Aye Captain." they echoed obediently, though neither looked very repentant. More focused on trying to the catch the eye of the beauty once more.

"Alright listen up." he finally addressed the crowd of awaiting recruits, easily directing their curious looks away from the uniform-wearing polar bear at his feet to himself. "I'm Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates. Some of you may have heard of me, some of you may have not. There are a few things I am going to make clear to you, and if you want to have any chance of making it on my crew, you'll _listen_."

A few shifted nervously, others immediately straightened to attention, Shachi and Penguin included, both adopting a more professional attitude. They knew that when the captain used that tone of voice, the time for joking around was over.

"First of all, let's start with something easier to digest. During the course of your trial, and I don't care if you make it on the crew or not, you will be working under me. Which means I'm your captain and you'll address me as such." he looked them each in the eye, a misleadingly pleasant smile on his face. Most cowed, some remained unwavering, it was the latter he kept in mind. "And as your captain, my word is law. Anything I say goes. You do not think when I tell you to do something, you do it."

Shachi couldn't help the snicker that escaped him at the unintentional pun. The look his captain shot him told him that he would be regretting it by the end of the day.

"You will be assigned one of my crew members to work under, you will be expected to defer to them and do everything they tell you to do." he held up a hand the moment he spotted the first affronted expression. "Before you all get self-righteous, let me remind you that they are my crewmates, and they've been working with me much longer than you have. I'm not asking you to get along with them, I'm _telling_ you to work with them. They're the experienced professionals not you, right now you are _nothing_ of note to me."

He paused, when he turned to find the two teary eyed and emotional.

"No matter how they act sometimes." he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Keep these things in mind, then maybe you'll find a place on the Heart Pirates with these crazy idiots. Now let's get on to the interviews and your introductions."

* * *

 _Now I know what you're thinking. A bit of a pompous ass ain't he? Laying do_ _wn all these rules and calling us nobodies before we had even set foot on the ship. I think most of us were thinking along the same lines. First impressions are strong after all, but they're often wrong. Back I sure hadn't seen the captain I'd willingly followed down to the depths of Davy Jones Locker if commanded._

 _Anyways, after that, the 'interrogations' went underway. I say interrogation, because even if the questions were simple enough, name, age, what we could contribute to the crew, his demeanour throughout remained detached, calculating and analytical. Answers all began with and ended with 'captain'. No one had wanted to risk their chances, as recruiting pirate ships rarely came by this area of North Blue after all._

 _Among the many modest and tamer introductions of sailors and fishermen, there were a few more memorable that stayed with me that day, even now. One in particular..._

 _I'm laughing now, but it was actually a rather terrifying experience._

* * *

Shachi immediately perked up when his captain moved down the line once more. He immediately started rapidly elbowing his fellow mechanic in the ribs.

"Penguin! Penguin! It's the lass!" he whispered, barely able to contain his excitement. Penguin on the other, was completely solemn, fingers crossed and head tipped to the heavens.

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease let captain accept her." he prayed, expression one of utmost seriousness. The captain could practically feel their stares boring into his back, and it took a great effort not to shake his head at how desperate they seemed. He would be having a chat with them later about mixing business with pleasure.

"So your name is Scarlett?"

"Yes."

He glanced up from his clipboard, eyes flashing briefly. Shachi and Penguin tensed.

"Yes, _Captain_." he reminded sharply, and she dipped her head in some semblance of apology. "Any notable skills you would like to contribute, Miss Scarlett?"

"I'm proficient at wielding a sword."

"How proficient?"

"I've cut down at least one hundred swordsmen with this sword, so I'd say proficient enough Captain." she smirked.

"She's fierce too~!" Shachi remarked, dramatically falling back into his partner's arms.

"I wouldn't mind dying by her hands..." Penguin giggled, red dusting his cheeks.

Their captain hummed, jotting down the new information.

"And which position in the crew are you aiming for Miss Scarlett?"

At this, the redhead grinned fiercely.

" _First Mate._ "

He looked rather amused with the answer.

"I'm sorry but I already have a first mate." he informed, inclining his head towards the left. She frowned, following the gesture to the polar bear at his feet. "Bepo."

A hush fell over the crowd as the redhead's face slowly turned an unhealthy shade of puce.

" _What?!_ "

"I believe you heard me quite clearly Miss Scarlett."

"You expect me to accept that this _pet_ outranks me?!" her sword was drawn in her anger, pointed at the said 'pet'. "I will not obey the orders of a mere animal!"

Shachi and Penguin visibly winced as their captain's eyes abruptly grew frigid. A second later onlooking crowd flinched when the woman was sent flying off the docks with a brutal kick to the stomach.

"And this is why we can't have nice things Penguin." Shachi sighed, watching the woman surface spluttering from the water with an expression of disappointment. His partner remained silent, impassively staring down the redhead as she quickly swam back to the docks.

The moment she tried to pull herself up, a boot-clad foot descended upon her hand, heel digging none-too gently onto her fingers. She cried out in pain, staring up now with fearful eyes as his silhouette loomed over her. Aura oppressive.

"Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett." his smile was sharp, all teeth. "I've counted a grand total of three mistakes you have made in my presence in the past minute."

He held up one finger. One.

"You insulted a trusted crewmate of mine. My first mate nonetheless."

A second followed. Two.

"You then dared to point your sword at one of my own."

Three.

"And finally." he cocked his head, voice deadly quiet. "You made the mistake of thinking that I need you, when it's quite the opposite. You need me. Unfortunately for you, you are _nothing_ to me Miss Scarlett."

He held her gaze, letting his words hang for a moment longer and nonchalantly left her trembling in the water.

"Who's next?"

* * *

 _Let me take this opportunity to clear up any possible misunderstandings. The lass by the name of Scarlett is not by any means me. Check the front of this book again, remember how it says Husky?_

 _I guess you thought it was going to be her nickname later. But what part of that drop dead beauty would warrant the nickname Husky? Surely not the silver eyes._

 _She didn't do the doggy paddle in the water either._

 _No, I wasn't Scarlett. I was the soul unfortunate enough to be next in line._

 _Remember what I said about first impressions? Well second impressions are much worse. After witnessing that spectacle, I was sure that not only was the captain a demanding man, he was also a terrifying man. Even with the fuzzy, spotted hat._

 _So you'll have to excuse me if I was a bit of a suck-up. Roger knew that I didn't want to be the next one drowning._

* * *

"I'm not going to lie to you, I'm not in the best of moods after that." he told the scruffy looking, stiff as a board recruit in front of him. "So let's just skip the formalities about name and age alright?"

"Of course capt'n." was the immediate answer after one look at the still-shaking redhead dragging herself away from the docks.

"Good." he flipped a new page on his clipboard, staring down at the sheet with pencil tapping rhythmically. "Now there's only really one thing that I really pay attention in these interviews, and that's what you can contribute. So tell me, what can you do for me?"

"I'll make you King capt'n."

The tapping paused, he looked up to regard the recruit with a glimmer of interest in his eyes.

"You'll make me King?" he repeated, eyebrows rising. There was a low whistle from behind, most likely one of his mechanics.

"Aye capt'n."

"And how in the four blues are you going to accomplish that?"

This time, it was the brunette who paused, though only briefly to give a small shrug.

"By keeping the ship, well submarine in tip-top condition at all times capt'n, so you won't have to worry 'bout dirt bringing any humiliation to your respectable reputation." they didn't stop there, looking incredibly serious about the matter. "I'll also make sure to tidy up and keep any collateral damage to manageable levels, clean up after any messes that'll inevitably be left in the grand scheme of things, to allow you to continue making exceptional decisions for this crew."

By the time the recruit finished speaking, he was grinning down at them in undisguised mirth.

" _Respectable reputation._ " he muttered with a shake of his head. " _Exceptional decisions._ I don't know who taught you to smooth-talk like that, but it's made my day."

"Anytime capt'n." they replied unsurely, slightly bewildered by his sudden change of mood.

"Preferred way of fighting? If any at all."

"Well, I've got my knife and flintlock capt'n."

"Any good with them?"

"I'm decent with'em capt'n."

"I think I already know the position you're looking at but, just to be sure..."

"Janitor capt'n."

He chuckled darkly.

"I don't think anyone has ever applied for the position of janitor willingly. Believe me, it's been said by my crew that it's possibly the worst option available."

"Cleaning is the one thing I'm confident of capt'n."

"Then the best of luck to you." he handed the clip board to the recruit, pointing back to where the rest of the recruits and the mechanics were waiting. "Take this to the two over there. They'll be taking over while I set up the medical room."

"Aye capt'n."

"I like you!" Shachi declared, as soon as the recruit approached them. "You're weird!"

* * *

 _That was the first ever thing that Shachi said to me._

 _Charming one ain't he?_

 _At the time, the rather back-handed compliment had me unsure of what to say in return but thankfully they were used to people being unable to keep up with them. From there, they had started questioning me left and right about my choice of being a janitor._

* * *

"Who would ever want to willingly become janitor?"

"You know that you're not just going to be cleaning dirt and dust right?"

"At what age did you realise your dream of wanting to clean things?"

 _Before I was given the chance to answer any, they had already moved onto their many complaints about their own intriguing experiences._

"This one time I was on cleaning duty, I found some _sick, sick,_ shit down in the storage."

"I really do wish Captain would not leave the things he did in the medical facility after his little _operations_."

"I swear it was still flopping around!"

"Really puts me off dinner sometimes."

* * *

 _Their woes had provided ample entertainment for the strangely long walk onto the submarine. Some of the stories had even gotten a laugh out of the surliest looking of recruits. But the moment they started to get all depressed about how there were yet again no female recruits, I had felt compelled to interject._

 _I thought their reactions had been just a tad overboard. I'm not pulling your leg when I say the whole group had stopped just to stare. A bit insulting._

* * *

"Yeah right, pull the other one." Shachi snorted in disbelief, before openly gaping at the brunette's miffed expression. "Oh you're not kidding!"

" _You're a girl?_ "

All nineteen backed up Penguin's single statement. The one recruit blinked, and took a wary step back, not liking the sudden attention at all. Shachi wouldn't have any of it and lunged at them, holding them down by the shoulders as Penguin sidled over to take a closer inspection.

"Your hair could be mistaken for a guy's." he commented, but his partner immediately jumped at a sudden discovery.

"No wait Penguin! Not entirely! Hair's tied up back here!" Shachi jabbed a finger towards the base of their neck.

"That's the tiniest ponytail I've ever seen." Penguin scoffed, "Are you sure you even need it?"

"Well, I look slightly less scruffy with it." was the hesitant reply.

"And you're what we get in place of that red-haired beauty?"

A poke to the nose. A look of disgruntlement.

"Suppose it's better than nothing right?"

" _Barely._ " the ginger haired mechanic sniffed, obviously disappointed.

"I'm sorry I'm no red-haired beauty." the brunet apologised, face carefully solemn. "And for ruinin' your dreams."

They each slung an arm around the recruit's shoulder, continuing to steer them and the rest of the group onwards.

"Captain was right. You are a smooth-talking little scallywag aren't you?" Shachi said, "But you know, your voice is rather low for a lass."

"Husky even." Penguin added. Shachi perked up.

"Now that's a good one! Husky!" he exclaimed, "What do you think Penguin?"

His crewmate hummed in thought.

"Matches the eyes. Huskies have blue eyes."

"Kind of matches the hair too! Though it's a dark brown instead of black."

"Huskies can be brown can't they?"

"True!" Shachi nodded sagely. "So matches the eyes and matches the hair! I am a genius."

"Hey, I was the one who brought it up first." Penguin protested.

"What are you two talkin' about?" the recruit asked curiously.

The two looked at each other and grinned.

"It's settled, your name is Husky from now on." Shachi pointed a finger at each of the recruits around sternly. "And if I hear any of you lads calling Husky anything else, there'll be consequences."

"Aye aye." they all echoed.

* * *

 _And the so deal was set. I would be known by Husky the rest of my life. My first and my last nickname._

 _When I die, I'm expecting to have Husky carved into my tombstone._

 _Of course I won't be dying anytime soon. I don't want to be leaving this world with only a few meagre pages of my legacy._

 _That wouldn't do at all._

 **A/N And that's chapter one, thanks for reading!**

 ***FLINTLOCK- A general term for early firearms that used the striking of a flint against steel to cause sparks that would ignite gunpowder to discharge bullets. In this case, FLINTLOCK refers to a pistol.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _My gender wasn't the only surprising revelation during that walk of ours. After officially dubbing me with my new name, Shachi and Penguin had then taken us on a tour of the submarine. The details of which I'll be sparing you._

 _I might not be the brightest hand on deck, but I do know when to keep my trap shut, especially when it comes to things like the ship's layout._

 _They took us around to the kitchens, dining room, cabin dorms, bathrooms, the helm, library and finally the medical bay. We were then told that we'd be having a quick medical examination to check that we wouldn't be bringing any diseases or have any allergies act up on board._

 _That was when I found out Captain was in fact a doctor. My first clue in on how my job as janitor wasn't going to be as easy nor as mundane as I expected._

 _Let me give you a hint. Doctors and hygiene usually went hand in hand._

 _But that wasn't where the real problem began._

* * *

The Heart Pirate captain straightened the sheaf of completed medical profiles against the desk. So far, there hadn't been any disease-ridden among the recruits, and only two allergy concerns. Nothing too concerning, as neither pollen nor dairy were abundant on the seas.

The sound of the curtain being pulled back announced the arrival of the next recruit. He took a moment to retrieve a fresh, blank medical form before swivelling around in his chair. Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth the moment recognition caught up with him.

"Miss Janitor." he kept his smile professionally pleasant. "I trust you had a good look around on the tour?"

"Aye capt'n."

"Good." he flashed a grin. "It's best to familiarise yourself with the decks you'll be scrubbing."

The statement elicited a quiet quirk of the lips from the recruit. At his invitation, they took a seat directly opposite, openly glancing around at their surroundings. Completely sterile.

"So Miss Janitor, I didn't have the opportunity to-"

"Hey Captain! _Captain_!"

"You are _not_ going to believe this Captain!"

Shachi and Penguin all but ripped the curtains from its hangings, barging in between the two with their respective exclamations. So caught up in their own exuberance, they failed to pick up on their captain's displeasure.

"This lad!" Shachi grabbed the recruit by the shoulder, drawing wild circles around their face with his hand. "Is actually a-!"

"A lass!" Penguin piped up, cutting his crewmate off and casually resting his elbow on said lass's head. The ginger haired mechanic immediately leapt over and punched him in the arm.

"Oi! Why do you always have to steal the punch line?!" he snapped, baring his teeth in disgruntlement. Penguin swatted his hand away nonchalantly, waiting expectantly for their captain's inevitable shock at the revelation.

Which never came.

Instead, their captain shot them a look about as flat as the door they'd trampled in their haste.

"Yes." he said drily. "I am well aware."

Both paused, mouths parted comically. They abruptly clutched at eachother for support.

"How did he know?!" Shachi hissed under his breath.

"He's captain, I bet he knows everything!" Penguin hissed back.

They appraised him briefly in awe.

" _Captain's so cool!_ "

"Do me a favour and get out." he drawled, jerking a thumb at the curtains. "And fix the door while you're at it."

"Aye aye captain." they chorused, leaving with matching grins and a parting clap to the recruit's shoulder.

The Heart captain exhaled lengthily, reclining back in his seat with a roll of his eyes.

"As I was saying, I didn't have the opportunity of knowing your name on the docks. You know, because of the whole thing with the red haired lass, I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries."

"To speak the truth capt'n, forget pleasantries, I'm just glad I wasn't the next one chokin' on ocean." the recruit openly admitted.

"Well. You never know, there are still plenty of opportunities for impromptu swimming sessions ahead of us." he intoned, a gleam in his eyes.

A nervous chuckle left their lips. He let the statement sit harmlessly for a while before continuing.

"Now unlike the little interview on the docks, your name is actually required for this medical profile..."

At his expectant look, the recruit opened their mouth to reply. Only for their teeth to click shut at the sudden, obnoxious round of throat clearing behind them. Two very familiar hats bobbed in their peripheral vision and they twitched at the intensity of their stares.

"I'm uh-" an awkward clear of their own throat. "Husky capt'n."

They could practically feel the approval radiating through the curtains.

"Husky?" his brows knitted, before realisation smoothed the furrow back out. "They've already started assigning the pet names haven't they?"

The moment the curtains showed sign of shifting, the captain immediately acted.

"And that was _not_ an invitation to start one of your ridiculous speeches about reasoning behind it." he called, voice raised just enough to get the message across. The dejected sound of them dragging their feet behind them, had him shaking his head. "Let's get this examination out of the way before they decide to grace us with their presence again."

* * *

 _I won't bore you with a wordy, detailed explanation of the whole medical processes I went through. Trust me when I say I'm doing you a favour here. It had been my first real medical exam, and since I was naturally curious about what it exactly entailed, I had asked._

 _And unfortunately for me, I received._

 _Captain had lost me at the first sentence. Half the words that followed I had no idea even existed until that day. In fact, the only reason I asked him to elaborate further was to make pitiful attempt to decipher the strange new language spewing from his mouth. Not even halfway through and my head was a soggy tangle of kelp. But of course cutting the captain off was out of the question._

 _Terribly bad manners to do so._

 _As my luck would have it, the explanation only stopped when the examination came to an end. It was safe to say, a valuable lesson was learnt that day._

 _Either way, it's the results you're really after ain't it? You've been scouring these pages for some form of weakness you can use against me or my crew. Probably put you in your superior's good books._

 _Think I don't know how you marines think?_

* * *

"... allergy, blood type X, no maladies, nothing out of the ordinary except-" he allowed the stethoscope to hang from his neck, fixing the recruit with a calculating stare. "You weren't born on this island were you?"

A passing look of surprise broke through their stupor.

"My accent that noticeable capt'n?"

"Your core temperature actually. It rests somewhere around thirty eight, which is pretty damn high." he said. "Have a history on a island with a cold climate?"

"Aye capt'n." the recruit confirmed, curiosity once again the better of them. "How'd you know?"

"I've heard that long time inhabitants of cold climate islands gradually adapt to the constant winter with higher body temperatures." the glint of intrigue in his eyes was all too visible. "Never thought I'd be _fortunate_ enough to have one on board my ship."

He kicked at the ground, the wheels of his chair allowing him to close the distance easily. The recruit shifted.

"To what extent are you impervious to the cold? Do you not feel it at all?"

"I can still feel the cold on my skin and all capt'n, but I just don't feel cold unless it's... _cold._ " they grimaced, feeling rather foolish at their lacklustre wording. He took no notice, flipping their wrist over and finding their pulse with practiced ease.

The steady trot beneath his fingers had his interest peaking.

"I would have thought the high core temperature would have stemmed from an accelerated cardiac cycle. Perhaps..." his gaze flickered back up. "An insulating layer beneath the skin?"

The recruit discreetly glanced at their arms at this. He shook his head, dropping their wrist and leaning back in his chair once more.

"No, a bit too on the scrawny side for that aren't you?"

They thought better of speaking up.

"Which leaves the theory of an unusually active metabolism. The burning of food into energy impacts on core temperature. You must burn it at an incredible rate to maintain your temperature." Grey eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the recruit, scrutiny akin to biologists with a dissected frog. " _Fascinating._ "

In fact, his fascination was crossing the boundaries of unnerving.

"Of course we can't confirm any of this without actually taking the appropriate tests..."

His drummed his fingers, eyes flickering briefly towards what the recruit hoped was clipboard on the counter and not the scalpels meticulously lined next to it. Fortunately, they never had to find out. Salvation came in the form of two hat sporting mechanics.

"Would you look at the time Captain!" Shachi exclaimed, hauling them up by one arm.

"Shachi-" he started, warning clear in his tone.

"Time for the next recruit aye?" Penguin took their other. "Wouldn't want to hold up the line would you Captain?"

"Pengui-"

"We really need to start assigning the recruits to their groups so do excuse us!"

And with that, they hastily marched the bewildered recruit out of the medial bay and into the corridor away from the Heart Captain's disgruntled expression. Then the two immediately started patting the recruit down and checking them over.

"You alright aye? Captain didn't dissect you?" Shachi inquired, squinting at them from under the brim of his hat.

"No missing arms, legs, fingers, organs?" Penguin followed up, listing the things as if it were common occurrence. They shook their head unsurely. "Welp. You're lucky we're always on hand during these medical examinations. Captain says we're the scallywags for bestowing such excellent names on the hearties but you're already the third he's taken interest in today."

"And when Captain takes interest in someone, we mean it in the worst way possible Husky." Shachi stared them down, completely serious. "The first one was a lad from the tropics, Captain wanted to investigate something about the poor lad's sweat glands. Think he was seconds away from taking a tissue sample.

"Second one apparently worked two years in a cigar factory, he was minutes from having his lungs dissected before we smartly intervened." his crewmate revealed grimly.

"And you," he grabbed them by the shoulders. "who knows what would've happened to you."

The recruit looked rightly terrified. And as if everything was fine again, Shachi clapped them on the back continuing down the hall grinning brightly.

"So was that snippet about you being allergic to cats true? Because that is just _gold_ Husky _._ "

* * *

 _There you have it lads and lasses, my greatest weakness. I'm allergic to cats._

 _You could easily take me down by flinging a couple of those mangy hell spawns at my face. Wouldn't that be a sight to see? You Marines keeping cats, for a chance to take down one pirate. But you're forgetting that I'm only a lowly janitor, even for the sake of justice, it really isn't worth it._

 _So for the sake of both our dignities, let's try to keep the kitten throwing to a minimum aye?_

 _From there, Shachi and Penguin for once carried out their duty of assigning us to our respective overseers. Some were lucky enough to be assigned to one of them, others like me, were assigned to Tern Eyed Jack._

 _Now Jack was an old seadog, he knew the seas like he knew every nook and cranny of the sub. He was quartermaster, he knew his ship well. At the creaky age of forty-nine, he was the meanest, the most cantankerous hand on deck that everyone grudgingly respected. Even the captain. He knew everything. Hence the friendly moniker the crew had so adoringly coined._

 _Tern Eyed Jack sees every little fumble the fresh recruits make. Tern Eyed Jack picks up on every second you spend slacking. Tern Eyed Jack hones in on anyone who doesn't pull their weight on his ship, and like the bird he was aptly named after, Tern Eyed Jack swoops down and in for the kill. You didn't know true humility until you've ruffled the feathers of Tern Eyed Jack. His tongue lashings could bring even the World Nobles down from their perch in Mariejois if they pissed him off enough._

 _Sometimes, we slap an 's' in front of his fond little title just for a couple extra laughs round the dinner table. Which of course, were promptly cut short with one stern look from the man himself. No, Jack was far from the most loved man on the ship._

 _But you only ever hate the best teachers._

* * *

Three unassuming recruits. One highly intimidating, grizzled, unimpressed quartermaster. The silence was stifling. No matter how one looked at it, there was no outcome in which there wouldn't be a grievous humbling of some sort.

He stood.

They straightened.

"That cheeky brat of a captain has found himself a bunch rag tag third order recruits again." the man kissed what teeth that remained after years of tack* and grog in obvious distaste. "Two deck-scrubbers and a laundry-boy. At this point I can't tell if he's gathering a pirate crew or starting a house-keeping business. So tell me, who are you?"

When he received looks of confusion and uncertainty, dark eyes immediately narrowed in displeasure.

"Your names!" he snapped. "Or are you incapable of remembering even that? By Roger I swear you're getting dafter by the batch!"

The sandy haired one quickly took initiative, followed closely by the dark haired in the middle and the brunette.

"Ross L. Day-!"

"-Thomas Porter-."

"-Uh-Husky sir!"

In the end, their introductions came out practically on top of one another, a jumbled mess.

"God damn it!" he glowered at them, incredulous exasperation etched into the lines of his face. "Why are all young people all in such a rush? Do you mind? Try taking turns you _loggerheads_! see how that'll work out for you!"

They did so, carefully repeating their answers again after many a look and silent prompt exchanged between.

"Thank you." the quartermaster drawled sardonically. "Now for those of you calling me 'sir' like the suck-up you are, I have a name, which like most, was bestowed upon by doting parents. It's Jack. So use it, because 'sir' makes me feel older than I am. With all these juvenile greenhorns infesting my ship, I hardly need the reminder."

Heads bobbed in understanding. He grunted in satisfaction.

"Good. Now _listen_."

* * *

 _It was then I had started to realise that Captain and ol' Jack were eerily similar._

 _When they told you to listen, they meant it. Neither enjoyed repeating themselves and they only ever told you to listen when they had important things to say. Perhaps they picked up the habit from eachother._

 _Then there's the fact that you only need to do one thing to stay on both their good sides. It was a simple matter of following instructions to the dot and to their expectations. Alright, perhaps it wasn't that simple. Their standards are slightly above the norm after all. But on the bright side, you were usually let off easier if you actually made an effort._

 _The last titbit? They were both terrifying._

 _Anyways, ol' Jack told us that there were only three things we needed to follow in order to guarantee our position on the crew. Even today, I still hold his teachings in high regard. It was like the pirate's bible. For me, the first rule is right up there next to rum and etiquette._

 _Ol' Jack liked to call it something fancy, but we all knew it was just his way of glorifying what we knew as the pirate pecking order. It was made clear that we were considered third order crew members, we were rock bottom. Reason being, the ship and crew could function without us lads and lass. Add the fact that we weren't even official crew members, it ranked us even lower._

 _The second and the third teaching entailed-_

 _Well. How about I just continue?_

* * *

After having a mop and bucket shoved into their hands, the recruit was thrown out into the hallways like hook to ocean and told to clean until it was clean. One question weighing on their mind had them making the mistake that caused the quartermaster to round on them.

"Exactly how clean d'you want it sir?"

The answer was short, and was only received after a long, unimpressed stare.

"When I say clean enough, I mean eat your dinner off the floor clean." he said. "And didn't I tell you not to call me sir, greenhorn?"

"Aye sir- I mean sorry sir- I mean-"

The recruit blanched when they felt callused fingertips dig into the crown of their head. Husky stood stock-still, not daring to raise eyes to meet peeved black and knitted brow.

"Want to repeat that greenhorn?" His tone seemed to promise a situation worse than the current if they wronged him again.

"My sincerest apologies-!" they rushed out, almost catching their tongue with their teeth in their haste to keep their trap shut. From then it was an uphill battle against years of ingrained manners beaten into them.

Their lips pinched.

Brows furrowed.

Jaw clenched.

Teeth grinded.

Sweat broke.

Minutes dragged on under Jack's forceful stare and the effort to restrain themselves was slowly crossing into excruciation. Then all at once, the pressure on their head lifted moments before they gave themselves an aneurysm.

"Good." he grunted, casually spinning on his heel and scratching at his chin curtain. "Now get to work scamp."

The moment he was out of earshot and out of sight, the Red Line of restraint broke.

" _Aye sir_."

It was as if all was right with the world again. Manners and Husky were like bread and butter, it wasn't right to have one without the other. At least in their opinion. The recruit absent-mindedly started mopping at the floor.

Was it still considered good manners if being polite made the other angry?

They didn't have much time to ponder, as an approaching pair of footsteps had them deftly shoving the bucket against the wall with their foot. Making sure there weren't any stray droplets of cleaning water left in their wake, the recruit pressed their back against the wall with mop in hand and eyes dead ahead.

Moments later, the crew's cook, bleary eyed and sporting a striped bucket hat, stepped into their line of sight. They had bumped into the man sometime during Shachi and Penguin's tour, fiddling away at the ship's stove.

"Mornin' sir."

Samuel left with a curious glance and a hesitant nod of acknowledgement. As well as boot shaped, black smudges on the previously clean patch of hallway. Husky twitched, shooting a look towards the retreating back of the cook. And said nothing.

Cooks were second order crew members.

Janitors were third.

The pecking order rests its case.

The next half an hour was spent greeting the occasional passerbys and belligerently retracing their tracks with the mop. The hallway was endless. Husky quickly learned that quickly going over the freshly mopped path with a rag, lessened the extra work later. In fact, with the innovative dual wielding of mop and rag, they had scoured through the final stretch of the hallway with relative ease.

The recruit stood proudly, mop in the right and bucket in the left, lost in the humble moment of accomplishment. Until once again, they were sent scuttling off to the side at the sound of someone's approach.

"Mornin-" the reflexive greeting trailed off abruptly.

Husky stared down at the hip-tall bear for about a whole second before they remembered staring was rude. With a quick shifting of gaze and an apologetic duck of the head, a potential situation was averted.

The recruit shook their head firmly, repeating the second teaching in their mind like some sort of mantra.

Respect your fellow crew members.

Respect your fellow crew members.

Respect-

The bear started scratching themself behind the ear. Husky found that they were unable to link the title of first mate to the individual before them for more than two seconds. It was rather-

First mate started shaking their fur out.

 _Unfathomable._

Then the image of a certain red head's derisive comments followed by the drenching of them seconds later had their posture unconsciously straightening.

"Mornin' sir." they decided the best course of action would be to continue normally.

An uncomprehending stare. A grimace at their own stupidity.

"...morning."

This time, Husky allowed themself to stare openly. The bear stared back. Beady black eyes seeming to dare them to say anything. To acknowledge that some sort of insanity had probably latched onto their mind upon boarding the submarine.

And to top it all off, the bear decided it was the opportune moment to kick the bucket.

* * *

 _Perhaps that wasn't the best wording. I don't actually mean that our first mate suddenly keeled over dead before me. He kicked the bucket in the literal way. Tipped the water over and made a right mess of my morning's worth of hard work. In a way, it was lucky he did. Snapped me out of a possible spiral into the depths with the horrible mess that resulted. I completely forgot about the prospect of a speaking bear._

 _Of course I was annoyed. You can't just ruin a mate's honest toil and expect them to okay with it. So could I do anything about it?_

 _Course not. Second teaching and all. Well that and..._

 _Pecking order._

* * *

Ten minutes of furious re-mopping later, and one final swab of the rag, the hallway was even cleaner than before. Combined with the albeit poor lighting of the rickety submarine, Husky was convinced the stretch of floor could blind marines if need be. Perhaps the bear took offense to this attack on their eyesight, as when Husky turned to dunk the mop back, First mate froze with paw raised, inches from the rim of the bucket.

The recruit had a sudden urge to completely sabotage their chances of making the crew by tackling first mate away. They eyed the distance between them with narrowed blue and debated the possibility. But of course, they would never be able to escape quick enough from the wrath of the captain. Their past experiences also hinted that nothing bad usually happened to those who laid low before those with power.

First mate dared take the chance to inch their paw closer.

An action that was met with carefully blank look and a barely restrained twitch of the hands.

"Sir I would implore you to rethink your next course of action." a shot at brownnosing. "But I'll respect whatever decision you make sir."

The bear paused, looking rather bewildered at the lack of protest and retracting their extended limb ever so slightly. Husky felt hope rise, much like a wave above ocean.

Only to have it inevitably crash and break like one as well. First mate had decided to continue to in his great endeavour of bucket spilling.

The recruit picked up the mop again, resigned to the inevitable fate of the hallway.

"Bepo!"

Jack bore down upon the two with an expression reminiscent of an irate Sea King. Even if his ire was directed to one, both cowered. Husky pressed themself against the wall when he came to a stop before them. They strangely felt no annoyance when Bepo quivered against their leg, only pity.

"I warned you about messing around with the greenhorns!" he growled, bodily grabbing the scruff of their neck and raising them to eyelevel. "Why don't you run off to the shitty brat of a captain?"

He dropped the bear with a flourish, and upon impact, Bepo scampered away. Husky only wished they could have done the same, but Jack had already turned to them.

"Done? Good." he grunted, "You're just in time for lunch scamp."

He pointed towards the mop they were still gripping tightly as some sort of self-defence weapon.

"You can put that away and head to the mess hall."

"A-aye sir. I mean-!"

The mop proved to be quite useless.

"Hey! Lass with the black-eye!"

Husky gingerly glanced up from where they were pulling out a chair to sit in, good eye blinking in recognition. It was the sandy haired recruit who had the same misfortune of being supervised by Jack. They waved them over.

"That table's for captain and the first orders. Bottom feeders over here." he grinned at his own joke.

The brunette made a noise of understanding, tucking the chair back in and opting for the seat on the long bench next to the freckled blonde. Almost immediately, they had to shift to avoid the uncomfortable knot they were sitting on. The table was cramped into the corner of the room, worn and unsteady on its legs. As they looked at the other groups, the recruit realised that the pirate pecking order could truly apply to anything.

"Husky right?"

"Aye."

"Ross L. Day." He stuck out a hand courteously.

"How could I forget?" Husky mumbled, after exchanging the gesture. They rolled their eyes discreetly, only to wince at the twinge of pain in their right. "Had to introduce ourselves twice didn't we?"

"Jack is a scary man." Ross grimaced, most likely reliving the memory. He gestured towards their still throbbing badge of honour. "He give you that?"

The brunette shrugged noncommittally, faint tinge on their cheeks.

"He's a scary man." they allowed.

Truthfully, if one took the handle end of a mop and held it to the circular discolouration swelling their eyelid, they would find it a perfect fit. For Jack hadn't really punched them directly. No, Jack had made to grab their head, only to knock their attempt at defending themselves right into their eye. But it would take a lot more than even the best marine interrogator to have Husky spill the beans about it. They would not sully their reputation on the mere first day by becoming the laughing stock of the ship.

"No kidding. But I've been finding Captain just as terrifying. Did he by any chance give you the creeps during the medical exam?"

Husky nodded, although they looked a bit uncomfortable talking about badly their superior.

"He said I was 'fascinating'." they said. "Shachi and Penguin had to pull me out."

"You too?" he whistled lowly. "But not in the good way right? More like a-"

"Intriguing specimen kind of way?"

"Yeah." the sandy haired teen nodded. "Yeah."

They shuddered.

"Think Captain has some weird hobby he's hiding?"

"Hope not."

"I heard the noon duties are going to be worse." Ross revealed, after a brief lamenting silence. Which caught the attention of almost all the recruits currently present at the table. Thomas Porter, their fellow unfortunate immediately snapped up from his lounging against the table.

"You've got to be joking mate." he said, just about to tear out his dark locks in frustration. "It can't get worse than cleaning the toilets."

The sandy haired recruit tipped his head.

"I'd like to agree with you, after that session of laundry washing. But, I'm 'fraid it's true."

Looks of despair and resignation alike.

"Woe be the bottom feeders." Husky said solemnly.

Ross snorted.

"I'd drink to that, but..." he purposefully looked towards the captain's empty seat. "Captain hasn't arrived yet and-"

"Pecking order." was the dull echo from all round.

Heads turned when the table in the corner abruptly burst into laughter. Their mirth however, was abruptly stifled at their captain's entry with first mate in tow.

He blinked at the sudden quiet, casually pulling out a chair next to the quartermaster. All eyes were trained on him, waiting for him to start first. The captain eyed them back with knitted brow, pausing with a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth. By now the crew was fidgeting in their seats.

Jack took initiative.

The captain immediately directed a frigid glare at the man when the contents of his spoon almost went up his nose at their forceful jab to the ribs. Quartermaster snorted, not in the least fazed, instead tipping his head towards the still waiting mess hall of pirates and recruits alike.

"Dig in." he finally muttered, around a spoonful of stew.

Immediately the clatter of plates, and the clank of tankards sounded with a gusto. It goes without saying, the table in the corner had to wait until all other tables had started on their meal before reaching for the bread, pot and ladle.

Husky nudged Ross in between mouthfuls of bread.

"How come capt'n was confused 'bout the whole meal pecking order thing?"

"He's captain." they answered sagely. "Top of the food chain, nothing to be concerned about."

"Except Jack." Thomas interjected, gesturing with his tankard to where the captain was frowning while seemingly being berated by said man.

"Starting to see a pattern here." Ross mused.

Husky merely threw back another tankard of rum and continued filling up their stomach while they could. The only other interruption they had was when Penguin and Shachi waltzed over and had a bit of a laugh over their black eye.

Later, the recruit regretted leaving the mess hall on a full belly.

* * *

 _Remember what I said about being janitor of the Heart Pirates? Aye, the bit about how doctors and their standards of hygiene made my job that much harder. Turned out that was only a small part to the real reason why the crew avoided janitorial duties like a Marine outpost._

 _I really do regret leaving the mess hall on a full belly._

 _We had just been assigned us our new work areas, I was to be cleaning the store room while Thomas was the mess hall. Ross of course had fresh new piles of laundry waiting for him. I suppose Thomas was a bit sour about the fact that the store room seemed to be much smaller and therefore less effort to clean than the entire mess hall, especially right after lunch._

 _Being the ever good intentioned person I was-_

 _Alright, perhaps I'm laying it on a bit too thick. Jack was getting annoyed at his grumbling and my eye had still been hurting from the last incident. So I switched with him. Two sea kings with one cannon ball._

 _But I really had meant well._

* * *

Samuel, the crew's cook, was enjoyable company to keep whilst cleaning. At least after the boundaries and taboos regarding entering the kitchen without his permission and any comment about his questionably coloured hair.

"It's not pink."

A sincere nod after a glance at the kitchen knife in the man's hand.

"Aye aye."

" _I mean it_. It's a light orange."

Husky finished wiping down the table, squinting at the colour peeking out from under their bucket hat.

"Looks perfectly salmon coloured to me."

The man paused, sending a suspicious look through the kitchen window.

"Is salmon coloured a type of pink?"

They blinked politely.

"Salmon's salmon."

He deliberated.

"Fair enough." Samuel turned back to maintaining his kitchen utensils. Husky remembered just in time to ask permission before walking in to join them, skilfully balancing a tower of dirty dishes to wash. "If you chip even one, you're off the crew."

Husky set the last few down much more carefully. Luckily the rubber gloves they had thought to grab rid most of the slippery business. After the fifth bowl, the recruit wasn't so terrified at the prospect of potentially being mauled by the cook and thrown overboard to do the dishes at a comfortable pace. Samuel had also ceased his hawklike supervision after being convinced the new recruit wouldn't be dwindling their meager supply of utensils.

Occasionally one would hum a familiar sea shanty, to which the other would join into merrily. It was safe to say, that it was the most relaxed Husky had been since the start of the recruitment process. So it was required to be ruined.

"Scamp!"

Said scamp almost had a heart attack fumbling the soapy dish in their hands. Nonetheless, with the hope and faith of Samuel riding on their shoulders, they managed to once again secure it in their grasp. The salmon haired cook turned around, expression suspicious.

"Get out here scamp!"

Husky pointedly avoided their gaze, all too hastily fleeing from the kitchen once they had placed the last dish on the drying rack.

"A-aye?"

Jack zeroed in on the recruit.

"Come with me. Samuel can finish the rest." he jerked his chin over his shoulder. "Bring your mop and supplies."

Slightly bewildered, Husky did so after a quiet farewell to Samuel. They risked a glance towards the quartermaster. Jack's face was unreadable and only caused unwanted paranoia. Were they about to be thrown overboard for some careless blunder they had missed?

The brunet hesitantly pulled off their gloves, tucking them into their belt and falling into line behind the man's strides.

Perhaps the comment about the hallways being clean enough to eat off was meant to be taken literally, and they had failed some sort of test by eating at the mess hall. A discreet slap upside their own head to refocus.

The recruit smiled awkwardly when Jack turned at the sound. With a roll of his eyes and a mutter of 'greenhorns' he continued on. It was about two minutes into the trip, Husky could hold their tongue no longer.

"Where are we-"

"Here we are." He said briskly over their tentative question. "You can get to work now scamp."

They took in the sight of the low-key door before them, and the word 'STORAGE' engraved into the dark wood. Brows knitted in confusion.

"Wasn't Thomas assigned the store room sir-" Husky broke off with a loud cough, hoping it covered up their accidental slip at the end. "He need help or somethin'?"

Jack snorted dryly.

"Porter needs help alright. He better hope there's a shrink on this island to fix him up again." a roll of his eyes at their uncomprehending look. "He couldn't handle the stress of his duties, so he took initiative and threw himself overboard. Screamed like a lass the whole way down too."

The recruit swallowed, regarding the door with a new wariness. Thomas hadn't seemed like one to buckle under anything.

"Get a move on scamp. If I recall, you're the recruit who had the guts to dare apply for janitor."

So Husky approached, mop clenched in their right and bucket in their left.

"And mind you, most of the stuff in there belongs to the brat of a captain." he added.

The recruit felt that much more reassured.

Jack folded his arms from his position against the wall, curiosity at what could come next causing his eyes to gleam. They rested the bucket on the floor, and with a twist of the handle, they stepped into the gloom. The door shut with a click behind them and Husky spent a good few seconds fumbling in the dark for the light switch.

When they did manage to click it on, Husky went stock still. Blue eyes widened as they took in the rows and rows of shelves.

 _"Think Captain has some weird hobby he's hiding from us?"_

Their mind then registered exactly what the jars contained.

 _"Think he was seconds away from taking a tissue sample."_

 _"No missing arms, legs, fingers, organs?"_

They realised that both were neither exaggerations nor jokes.

 _"I don't think anyone has ever applied for the position of janitor willingly. Believe me, it's been said by my crew that it's possibly the worst option available."_

All the pieces clicked together.

Jack glanced up at the sound of the door slamming back open and back shut. The recruit's face remained slate blank even under his scrutiny. He could practically see the tides turning over and over in their mind.

Then Husky met his gaze.

"Sir, I think I'm going to need another bucket."

* * *

 _Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a hearty beef stew and bread as much as the next pirate. But, I mean. I just wish I had someone to tell me what I'm going to tell you now._

 _If any of you marines are ever going to infiltrate our crew by posing as a janitor. If you get assigned storeroom duty, try not eating too much beforehand. Because no matter how much you love beef stew and bread, you're not going to love it when its leaving you the way it entered._

 _Oh and, go easy on the rum as well._

 **A/N Sorry about the slow update, I had exams to study for. But they're over now and I can get back to writing! Thanks to everyone who read and/or FFRed!**


End file.
